The weather forecaster is so screwed
by TheMusicalDevil
Summary: The first in a series entitled 'Impala Days'. In which there is snow in July, a snowball fight, and not-very-well-prepared hot chocolate. Destiel. Co-written by BlackestSlytherin.


**Hey guys! My friend BlackestSlytherin and I have co-written a Destiel one-shot . This is the first in what will hopefully be a string of one-shots, all about Destiel, of course. Said string shall be entitled: 'Impala Days.' So read, enjoy and tell me what you think in a review! Thanks guys :)**

Sam shivered, his breath condensing on the windowpane. He was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be this cold in the middle of July. But that was the Apocalypse's doing. Weird weather everywhere. But hey, he wasn't complaining - he loved snow. Not that he was going to admit it to anyone, of course. Or ask Dean if he wanted to go outside with him. Though he kinda did.

((\\/\\/\\/\\^^*^^/\\/\\/\\/))

"Dean, look!" Dean wandered over to the window of the Roadhouse, and watched his brother gaze out in wonder. "It's snowing. How is that possible?" He grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. Dean smirked at the sight of the impossibly large and usually mature Sam acting like a kid over a little bit of snow.

"Wow," the slight edge of sarcasm in Dean's voice went unnoticed by Sam "that's not normal."

"Who cares? It's snow! C'mon, Dean, let's go out!" Dean rolled his eyes but allowed his Sasquatch of a brother to drag him out the door, calling back to Ellen that they were going outside for a while.

"While you're outside, you can clear the road for me." Ellen's voice drifted out of the storeroom and she appeared with two shovels in her hands. Sam and Dean groaned theatrically, but she didn't budge. "I mean it. I might still get customers!" Sam grabbed the shovels, casting a forlorn look at Ellen. Dean sighed.

"The sooner we finish, the sooner we can do whatever the hell you want to do, Sam." Dean reasoned, thrusting the shovel at Sam. Sam frowned, but accepted the shovel off his brother anyway.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it." Sam mumbled.

"No, you just have to do it." Ellen said, already turning around and going back to whatever she needed to do. Sam considered making a face at her back, but decided it was childish, and that Dean's teasing wouldn't be worth the effort. Also, Ellen was scarily good at knowing when something was going on behind her. He knew from experience.

"C'mon, Sammy." Dean was already outside, and Sam joined him with a sigh.

((\\/\\/\\/\\^^*^^/\\/\\/\\/))

As they set about clearing the driveway, they fell back into the easy routine of chatting and comfortable pauses that they hadn't had a chance to do in the past few weeks. They never really talked in the car; Dean preferring to just listen to music and Sam never complaining. They talked about anything and everything: beer, girls they'd seen at diners, how bad Dean's taste in music was, how good Dean's taste in music was, the Impala, pie (though that was fairly one-sided) and they finally arrived on the topic of a certain blue-eyed angel.

"Man, I've seen the way you look at him." Sam teased "Are you sure that you don't play for the other team…" Sam gave his brother a knowing look. "'Cause I'm not so sure." Dean scowled down at the snow.

"I don't play for that team." He insisted, but was unable to look Sam in the eye. Sam grinned.

"You can't lie to me. I _know _you. And I know you like him, whether you'll admit it or not. And seeing how he looks at you…" Sam trailed off, trying to capture Dean's attention. It worked.

Dean's head shot up. "How does he look at me?" Dean asked, squinting up at his brother. Sam couldn't help smirking at him, and didn't reply. "Damnit, Sam, you can't just say that and then leave it hanging!" In response, Sam did just that. Dean huffed at him and carried on clearing the driveway for Ellen.

((\\/\\/\\/\\^^*^^/\\/\\/\\/))

Finally, they were done. Sam and Dean dumped their shovels in the Roadhouse, grabbed Ellen, Jo and Ash and dragged them outside for a snowball fight.

"We don't have an even number of players." Sam noted. Dean frowned.

"Yes, you do." Said a deep voice from behind them. The brothers whipped around to see a familiar angel standing a few feet away from them. Cas began to walk over to the brothers; but the angel wasn't used to snow, and he slipped, much to the amusement of everyone. Cas made no move to get up; instead looking wide-eyed around at the snow. "What is this?" He asked, half to himself. Dean came over and offered him a hand.

"It's snow, Cas. It happens when it's cold." Cas took Dean's hand and allowed himself to be pulled upright.

"I am aware of what snow is, Dean. It's just… I've never seen it before." Dean stepped away from Cas before his brother could clear his throat and make a remark.

"Let's get started." Dean said quickly, telling himself his cheeks were flushed because it was cold. Cas wandered over and joined Ellen, Jo and Ash, and the brothers stood in front of them. "Sam and I are team captains, so we'll pick the teams. You wanna go first, Sammy? To give you a bit of a chance." Sam rolled his eyes but accepted.

"Ellen." Dean huffed at his brother as Ellen walked over to Sam.

"Good choice, Sam." She said, smirking at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Cas." He chose immediately. Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, who scowled at him in return as Cas joined Dean.

"Jo."

"Ash." As soon as they had finished picking the teams, they quickly established the rules; mainly for Cas' sake.

"Rules: 1. No foul play. 2. I mean it. 3. If you get hit three times, you're out. 4. If you're out, you have to go and sit by that tree stump there." Dean pointed to said tree stump in the middle of a nearby clearing. "5. Whichever team gets all of the opposing team out first wins. Everyone clear?" He was met with 4 resounding 'yeses' and one slightly uncertain one. He grinned at Cas as Sam's team immediately disappeared off into the miniature forest that was situated behind the Roadhouse. "Now Cas. I need you to do your poofing trick to not get hit and hit everyone else. Got it?" Cas looked rather nervous but nodded nonetheless.

"What do I use to… hit them?" Dean stared at Cas for a moment, before reaching down and making a snowball and showing it to the angel.

"This is a snowball." He then proceeded to throw it at Ash, who responded with a rather girly yelp. "And that's what you do with them." Cas now looked terrified.

"Won't I hurt them?" Dean hesitated, and then shook his head. Hopefully Cas wouldn't do any major damage to anyone or anything with his super-strong angelic mojo.

"Nah. Just go with it. Now, Ash, you stay here and don't get hit, and Cas and I will go and get Sammy and the others." Ash nodded, already getting comfortable.

"Take your time, dude. Don't want the game to be over too quickly. It's a good idea; raising people's spirits 'n all." Dean nodded.

"C'mon, Cas. Let's go." Cas dutifully followed the hunter into the woods.

((\\/\\/\\/\\^^*^^/\\/\\/\\/))

A twig snapping behind Cas and Dean was the only warning they received before Sam began pelting them with snow. Dean yelled, bending down and lobbing a handful of snow back at his brother. Glancing over his shoulder, he realised that his 'teammate' had disappeared. He supposed that he _had_ told him to use his angel mojo to vanish and not get hit. Dean was distracted from this by something very cold being forced down the back of his shirt.

"Sam!" He yelped, squirming fruitlessly. He managed to twist out of his brother's grip, only to be hit with three snowballs in quick succession. Huffing, he tackled his brother to the ground.

"Dean, you're out! You can't do that!" Sam protested, laughing. Dean rolled his eyes, but let go anyway.

"Fine, fine. I'll go and sit on the tree stump."

((\\/\\/\\/\\^^*^^/\\/\\/\\/))

Sitting on the tree stump in the middle of the clearing, Dean tightened his arms around himself as he shivered. He was tempted to go back inside and grab a coat or another jumper or _something_ because he could feel ice cold water slowly dripping from his hair and down his back, and the wind had begun to pick up as it started snowing _really hard_. The only thing stopping him was his damn pride – Sammy was only dressed in a plaid shirt and he hadn't gone in or even glanced at the Roadhouse yet! Wind whipped at his face and clothes, accompanied with flurries of snow. It felt as if the temperature dropped further each second he sat there and he swore he could feel the melted snow on his back beginning to re-freeze. The crunch of footsteps in snow drew his attention to the figures that were making their way over to where Dean was sitting. As they drew closer, Dean realised it was Ash and Jo. Both were shivering slightly but laughing as they tried to trip each other up. They sat down next to the stump; Ash grimacing slightly at the sensation of snow melting into the seat of his trousers. Silence surrounded them, broken only by the howling of the wind. Eventually, the game drew to a close and Sam, Ellen and Cas met them at the tree stump. Sam was grinning victoriously and walked over to Dean with snow-covered hands to mess with Dean's hair. Swatting his brother's hands away, Dean attempted to stand and follow the others back into the Roadhouse but found that his legs were completely numb. He was pretty sure that wasn't healthy. Still sitting, he looked up at everyone else. None of them were looking at him, and they were all about to enter the Roadhouse.

Just as Dean was debating whether to swallow his pride and ask for help, Cas turned around and saw him sitting alone on the stump. Frowning, Cas carefully made his way back to the hunter.

"Dean?" He asked, frowning. Dean made a face.

"I can't feel my legs." He said finally, refusing to look at Cas. "I think they've gone numb from the cold. I can't walk." When Cas didn't respond immediately, Dean risked looking up at him. The angel actually looked rather concerned. Without saying anything, Cas took Dean's arm and looped it around his shoulders. "Cas! What are you doing? Can't you just zap me inside with your angel mojo?" Cas stood up, practically one-handedly holding Dean upright.

"I can't… zap you inside, as you say. My… mojo is depleted significantly, and I need to save it for emergencies." He explained. Dean scowled at the snow.

"Alright." He said finally. Cas immediately put his other arm around Dean's waist and began to practically drag the shivering-Dean towards the Roadhouse. Dean grabbed the shoulder of Cas' trench coat and held on for dear life. It wasn't that far to the Roadhouse, but it felt like it took forever. He shot a glance at Cas, whose eyebrows were drawn together in a deep frown. Dean shivered again and he felt Cas' arm tighten imperceptibly around his waist.

Entering the Roadhouse, Cas virtually threw Dean into a nearby chair and stood in front of him.

"What do I do?" He asked, looking very out of place and worried.

"G-go find-d-" Dean was starting to vibrate and could hardly get his words out. "so-ome b-blankets…" Cas nodded and immediately began searching the Roadhouse for some blankets while Dean wasn't getting any warmer.

Eventually, Cas found a large pile of blankets and brought them all over to where Dean was still sitting. He piled them on top of the hunter, not knowing how many he needed.

"C-Cas…" Dean protested quietly as he was smothered in blankets. "T-that's fine." Cas put one more blanket around him and stepped back, eyeing him.

"I would warm you but… like I said, I must save my powers for emergencies." Dean nodded.

"It's o-okay, Cas." He said. He still couldn't feel his legs. "W-where's Sam-m?" Cas looked around, wide-eyed.

"I don't know. I assumed they were here…" Cas trailed off, appearing to be listening intently to something. "I believe they are washing." He said finally. Dean gave an extra-violent shiver.

"T-trying to g-get warm, m-more like." He said to himself. Cas watched him quietly.

"Is there anything else I can do?" He asked, hating to be helpless. Dean thought for a moment. "I could make you a hot beverage." Cas continued. "I hear that 'hot chocolate' is often used to warm people when they are especially cold. Shall I make that for you?"

"Errrrr…" Dean stuttered, "S-sure?" Whist Dean as more of a coffee person, he felt slightly intimidated by the determined glint in Castiel's eye.

Cas marched into the Roadhouse's kitchen and opened the overhead cupboards, belatedly realising he didn't know what he was searching for, nor how he was going to create the 'hot chocolate'. Castiel considered asking Dean for assistance, but deemed that Dean would not be of much help in his current state. He continued to idly shuffle through the cupboards, stumbling purely by chance on a container labelled 'drinking chocolate'. Lips quirking into a small smile over his victory he grabbed it, sighing in relief when he noticed the instructions printed on the side. He followed them to the best of his ability and 5 minutes later proudly presented Dean with a mug of hot chocolate.

Dean accepted the mug with a quick smile, pretending not to notice the clumps on hot chocolate powder that had not been properly stirred in floating at the top of the drink.

"Thanks, Cas." Dean said, taking a sip of the chocolate.

"You are most welcome Dean," Cas responded, his voice low and gravelly, staring intently at Dean. The hunter looked anywhere but Cas, even going as far as taking another sip of his drink. "Is there anything else you need?" The angel continued, leaning towards Dean. Shaking his head, Dean finally looked up to immediately be captured by Cas' bright cobalt eyes, which were rather close. But he found that he actually didn't mind all that much. But why was Cas getting so clo-

"Son of a bitch!" Dean swore, tilting his cup upright. He looked down at his now ruined top and sighed.

"Are you alright?" Cas asked, now properly leaning over Dean to see what he'd done. Dean gently pushed him back.

"I'm not going to die, if that's what you mean." Since Dean could now vaguely feel his legs, and was 60% sure that they could hold him, he pushed himself up and swayed for a moment as all the blankets fell off him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. Not trusting himself to look at Cas, Dean grabbed his shirt and pulled it off, walking slowly and carefully to the laundry basket, holding onto things as he passed them. As he turned back around, he saw Cas gazing at him.

"I think…" Cas had to stop to clear his throat and started again. "I think my body is reacting to your bare chest in a sexual manner. I think I should leave before you get uncomfortable." Dean could feel the blood rushing to his face as he shuffled on the spot, not knowing how to reply.

"It's a little too late for that." He said finally. Even from a distance, he could see that Cas was turning red too. There was a lengthy silence before Cas spoke again.

"Since you are now aware of my- my sexual attraction towards you, you should probably know that-"

"Dude, no. No chick flick moments." Dean interrupted, waving his hands about. Cas' eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

"But you need to kn-"

"I don't, I really don't." Dean said, shaking his head.

"Dean-"

"Cas…" Dean mimicked, trying anything to stop the awkward situation that was arising. Cas strode forward a few paces until he was a few feet in front of the hunter. He looked at Dean for a long moment, before shaking his head exasperatedly.

"So stubborn…" He said, before stepping forward and grabbing Dean's shoulders to pull him into a kiss. After a few moments they parted, their foreheads resting on one another's. A cough from the doorway startled them out the trance they had been in.

"About fucking time!" Sam grinned. Dean gave a shout of annoyance and lurched toward his brother but a firm hand on his shoulder halted further movement. Cas dragged him into another kiss and by the time they had parted once more Sam had disappeared.


End file.
